Page 19 of Fortune’s Final Folly

The cobbler was an established businessman in Cheapside and had been a close friend of the vicar’s, while Kate was a single woman without the benefit of a husband to seek retribution on her behalf. That did not mean Joshua did not plan to see Kate’s wrongs made right, and her building whole once more no matter who or what was responsible for setting the blaze.

Kate crossed her arms over her chest. Her demeanor had been the same all morning—confusion mixed with uncertainty. “I cannot ask that of you, my lord. I haven’t any notion how long it will take or if I’m capable of repairs at all. Mayhap it would be best to sell what is left of the building to Mr. Cuttlebottom and be done with it all.”

Never would Joshua allow the beast to profit from Kate’s loss. Though the time was not right to worry her with his suspicions.

“I will assist you with the repairs.” Joshua clasped his hands behind his back as if the task were as simple and easily completed as that. “My stable hand, driver, and I will be at your disposal until the schoolroom is restored. Until that point, you may continue teaching in my building. The back office, while cramped with all the children in attendance, should suit well enough.”

“Joshua—ummm—my lord,” she said, brushing at her cheek. “I haven’t the coin for the repairs. Even with your help, it is a fruitless endeavor. And your office...I cannot repay you for its use.”

“Never you mind.” He brushed off her concern. “I can work in the front room of the building, and I have some savings—”

“No,” she cut off his words. “If I agree to remain at your townhouse and use your office for my schoolroom, I shan’t take your money. It is too much. And I do not wish to impose on your kindness.”

“Please, allow me to finish.” If anyone would understand Joshua’s position, it was Kate. “I do not have much saved, certainly not enough for all the repairs needed. However, it will be a start. Mayhap you can contact the individual who sends you money every few months.”

Joshua adjusted his cravat, hoping to dispel the awkwardness that had settled between them over his generous offer. They’d never spoken of the parcels he delivered to her. In fact, he’d mistakenly opened one a few years back before realizing it was not addressed to him. That was the only way he knew they contained money.

In the world of the ton, it was garish and uncouth to discuss matters such as finances with anyone but your man of business and perhaps your steward. Again, Joshua was reminded of how different his upbringing was compared to his chosen life in Cheapside. Certainly, he could have taken to a life of the beau monde and wiled away his allowance and time at the racetrack or White’s while spending his evenings in fashionably crowded ballrooms.

“It might be possible for your benefactor to advance you the funds for the repairs,” he prodded.

Her lips pursed, and her discomfort visibly grew. “I do not think that is a good idea.”

“Why ever not?” he asked. “If you’d like, I can draft the request on your behalf.”

She shook her head. “I am unaware who sends the money. We have never met nor communicated in any way except for the envelopes I receive. There is never any correspondence included with the funds.”

For not the first time, Joshua was plagued by his own lackadaisical handling of the situation. “You do not know whom the stipends are from?” He’d assumed Kate’s mother or father had spoken of the quarterly bequeathals before their deaths.

Keeping her eyes trained on the schoolroom, she said, “The first envelope arrived not long after my father’s death. I was so overwhelmed and blessed to have the money, I did not question who’d sent it. I’d even convinced myself for a time that it had come from my father’s parishioners or, mayhap, one of my students. I feared if I questioned the origin of the money, it would stop coming. I know it sounds silly—and frankly, feeble-minded on my part—however, I was barely able to keep food in my stomach and was ready to close the school when it arrived. I did my best to make the funds last for as long as possible, but then you delivered another envelope. And another, and another…”

“And, suddenly, it was not so important who your benefactor was.” It hadn’t mattered overmuch to Joshua either—curiosity aside—when his uncle had charged him with the task of delivering the envelopes. “You are not feeble-minded at all.”

She lifted her chin and turned toward him, a spark of defiance in her blue-grey eyes. “It didn’t matter as long as I was able to keep my mother’s school open, and the children had a safe place to come and learn.” She sighed, and Joshua noticed a bit of her fortitude flee. “I know it was wrong to keep accepting the money; however, I justified taking it because I was not benefiting from it—my pupils were. I traded lessons for eggs, milk, and fabric. Some children, born to more blessed families, paid me in coin, which I used for other necessities.”

Joshua held her hard stare, making sure she saw understanding in his eyes. “You have done nothing wrong, Kate. The parcels are left at my office, and since your father’s death, they have come addressed to you. The money is meant for you. Of that, I have no doubt.”

“Who do they come from?” she asked. “And how does this benefactor know my family? Surely, you must know.”

“I am uncertain, as well.” He regarded the building across the street once more. “I have been delivering them to your family since I finished at Oxford and came to London to work with my uncle. I always assumed you knew who they were from and never wished to pry into such a private matter. My uncle’s instructions were to deliver the envelopes and ask no questions. Confidentiality between a solicitor and his client is paramount.”

A small girl, dressed in a pink pinafore with scuffed black half boots and bouncing blond curls skipped down the street. Children came and went from the schoolroom so often that Joshua was not familiar with them all. But when the little girl stopped in front of Kate’s building and looked up at the shattered window and the covered doorway, he suspected that she was a pupil of Kate’s.

“Lily,” Kate called. When the girl turned, Kate waved and looked both ways before crossing the street to greet the child.

She knelt before Lily, embracing the girl before drawing back with a smile. How Kate remained positive with her students despite everything that’d happened was beyond him. Joshua was too far away to hear their conversation, but when Lily’s smile turned into a frown, he suspected Kate had told the girl the schoolroom would need repairs before they could begin lessons again.

He hoped that Kate accepted the use of his office to continue with the children.

Kate stood and nodded back in the direction the girl had come skipping from. Lily walked away, likely back home, her shoulders slumped.

Chapman had confided to Joshua that all the children had taken the news of the fire in a similar fashion. Their upset was a clear testament to Kate’s skill as a teacher. When Joshua had been young, he’d relished the days his tutors had called off ill or were otherwise indisposed. He’d spent the days lost in far more interesting and exciting things—at least his boyhood self had thought them far more appealing than lessons.

He marveled, not for the first time, how Kate was unlike any other woman in his acquaintance. He had not met a more selfless woman, one who thought of more than their appearance, social status, and what event they’d next attend. What would London be if more of the ton worried about others and less about themselves?

Miss Katherina Elliott was not only beautiful on the outside, but she possessed a rare heart of gold. Her curling, ebony hair and striking, almond-shaped, bluish-grey eyes were captivating. And Joshua hadn’t been surprised to discover that there was far more to the woman than met the eye.

If his grandmother were alive, Joshua imagined she’d love Kate and admire everything about her as much as Joshua did.